


Property of Bucky Barnes

by pquill



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Civil War if they Talked It Out Like Adults, Established Relationship, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mentions of homophobia, Possessive Behavior, Protective Bucky Barnes, Secret Relationship, but Steve shuts that shit down real quick, in this house we stan good communication skills, not in a super unhealthy gross way though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:00:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24807394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pquill/pseuds/pquill
Summary: Scott never expected to be standing in a German parking lot while Captain America's eyes rolled back into his head at the hot press of Bucky Barnes' mouth, but then again, his life was already pretty weird.OR, five times Bucky was possessive of Steve and one time Steve was possessive of Bucky.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 13
Kudos: 396





	Property of Bucky Barnes

1

Sam was _not_ on board with Steve's plan. Kidnapping a brainwashed fugitive assassin? Are you kidding? That had bad idea written all over it.

"He's changed, Sam," Steve said.

"He doesn't kill people anymore, Sam."

"He's my best friend, Sam."

Sam grumbled at that last one accordingly. Now he was jealous of an unstable century-old murderer, goddamn it. He was struggling to remember why he was friends with Steve at all. Honestly. Especially now that said 'changed' assassin had assaulted a handful of SHIELD agents and Avengers with the ease of a bowling ball knocking down pins.

But then Bucky spoke, from where he was trapped in an industrial clamp, smiling and reciting broken tales of his and Steve's past, and Steve's whole face lit up like Sam had never seen before. It was like the haunted look that usually lurked just beyond his steely facade dissolved into thin air. He seemed to completely forget that Sam was even there, his focus laser-sharp as if Bucky was the only other thing in existence.

"How much do you remember?" Steve asked quietly, dropping to his knees before the assassin. Sam raised an eyebrow as the Captain's hands hovered hesitantly in the air halfway between his sides and Bucky's face.

He raised a second eyebrow as the leather-clad agent used his free arm to press Steve's hand to his cheek, bright grey eyes boring into blue. "Don't worry. I remember _that_."

The pair were gazing at each other with stars in their eyes, and it all clicked in Sam's mind. His jealousy melted away. They weren't best friends; they were secret boyfriends. Which suddenly made _a lot_ of Steve's behaviour make _a lot_ more sense. After brushing off the slight offence that Steve hadn't confided in him, realising that the poor man probably wasn't used to people being accepting of his relationship, Sam's brow began to furrow. What if someone else had connected the dots, or Hydra had tortured the information out, and this was all part of the plan?

He cleared his throat loudly.

Steve glanced at him, eyebrow raised in confusion as he was snapped out of his daze. Behind him, Bucky glowered.

"A word, Steve?" Sam said, trying to ignore the cold glare he was receiving in return.

"I'll be just a minute, Buck," smiled Steve, seemingly unaware of the disdain his old friend was showing towards his new one. He tousled the assassin's hair with one hand and squeezed his shoulder with the other - Sam regarded the adoring look on the brunet's face as a good sign - before following Sam out of earshot. "What's up?"

"I'm not sure about this, Steve," began Sam. Steve's face fell, and Sam had to force himself to look away. The crestfallen man looked like a kicked puppy, and it was distracting him from giving his honest opinion. "I get that you're excited to be reunited with your man, but doesn't this seem a little too good to be true? He just beat up a dozen people a few hours ago, for God's sake. I think your judgement might be a little clouded."

Steve set his jaw and looked out into the distance. "I understand why you're sceptical. But you need to trust me. I know Bucky better than I know myself, and I know that that's him. And he remembers-" Steve cut off suddenly, taking a deep breath to calm his dewy eyes. "I can't leave him, Sam, not again. And I know it's a lot to ask for, but I need your help."

Sam had heard plenty of stories about the infamous Bucky Barnes, and though Steve never voiced it aloud, Sam knew the soldier blamed himself for the assassin's apparent demise. Which was ridiculous and totally unfair, because why would you _not_ assume someone was dead after watching them plunge a few hundred feet from a moving train, but that was just the kind of guy Steve was. Sam softened at the admission and decided to give Barnes the benefit of the doubt.

"Okay," Sam said with a nod. "I trust you. Let's go, before anyone catches up with us."

Steve gave a grateful smile.

Once Bucky was free of his restraints, he wound his arm around twice, joints whirring and clicking back into place. Steve watched with awe and a little bit of something else Sam did not want to dwell on.

Just as they were about to go gather up the rest of their ragtag team, Bucky stopped. "Wait," he said. Steve furrowed his eyebrows with concern. "Can I have a word with him first?"

Sam looked up from his phone (specifically Candy Crush) to find Bucky pointing at him with a tense metal arm. He frowned, but Steve motioned for him to go. And if it meant something to Steve, he'd deal with a cyborg ex-Hydra agent with an apparent dislike for him. He supposed the assassin just wanted to assess his trustworthiness anyway, which was fair enough, so he ducked back into the previous room with Barnes in tow.

Except that was notwhat he wanted to talk about, which became clear the second they were out of Steve's eye line and Bucky had slammed Sam against the concrete wall.

"Don't make a sound," growled the soldier.

Sam shook his head, because he absolutely had not been going to anyway. Not with a heavy metal prosthetic resting against his throat and a man that was armed beyond belief with a dark flame in his eyes restraining him.

"If you so much as _look_ at Stevie the wrong way," warned Bucky. "Let alone do anything to hurt him - I will rip the flesh from your bones and organs from your body, leaving you to bleed out _wishing_ I'd shot you instead. Understood?"

Sam nodded tightly, eyes wide. He had never been threatened like this before, and certainly not regarding his loyalty to Steve. However, he found it oddly comforting that despite decades of brainwashing, the man still held his protectiveness of Steve above anything. "I would never hurt him. He's my friend."

"Good. And don't even _think_ about trying to become more," Bucky said, punctuating his point with dangerously narrowed eyes before releasing Sam.

"Good talk," Sam huffed. He rubbed at his throat and followed slowly as Bucky practically skipped back over to Steve. He slung his flesh arm around Steve's shoulders, which should have been awkward, considering how tall and broad Steve was, but they made it look natural somehow, Steve's arm automatically circling Bucky's waist like reflex. The blond pressed a grinning kiss to the soldier's cheek, who leaned into the touch and shot Sam a pointed smirk.

Sam smiled, because at least now he could rest easy knowing someone out there would always have Steve's back, even if his tactics were a little worrying. And they were clearly still very in love (which also explained why Steve rejected every date Sam and Natasha tried to set him up on) so he wouldn't need to wonder about Steve's happiness anymore either.

' _Love you_ ,' Bucky whispered into Steve's ear, and yeah, Steve was gonna be just fine.

2

There were butterflies practically erupting in Scott's stomach as the van pulled into the parking lot. Captain America was _right there_ , oh man. He couldn't wait to tell Cassie all about it. She would freak. He used to read her stories about Steve Rogers before bed, and they frequently fangirled together when they saw him on the news.

Unfortunately for him, his mouth got ahead of him, and before he knew it he was rambling to the Captain America like a volcano spouting lava. Lava being ridiculous admissions of awe and undying love, in this case. And, oh boy, did he just touch Captain America's (rock-hard) pec? Oh _no_. At least Sam found it funny, he was giggling up a storm throughout Scott's rant.

To his credit, Steve Rogers ( _Captain America!!!_ ) took it very well, smiling in amusement like this happened all the time. Which it probably did. Just, he was probably usually harassed by teenage girls, not a grown man with a pocket full of ants.

Scott straightened up. He was a grown man. With a pocket full of freaking _ants_. He could stay cool in the face of fame.

"Hey," barked a deep voice from Steve's right. Scott looked away from the blond icon to find said icon's best friend, and _man_ this had to be the best day _ever_ because Bucky Barnes was there too. And he looked pissed. Sam's eyes widened and his lips stretched into a smirk.

"Oh my god, Bucky Barnes!" Scott grinned, ignoring the look of anger on the old ( _was it okay to call him old? Because, he totally was, almost a whole century, but would he mind? Whatever, shut up, Scott_ ) man's face. "My daughter loves you, you were her favourite character in the comics."

Bucky's face twitched with a mixture of emotions.

"Buck," Steve said, a note of warning in his tone, but the amusement hadn't left his smile.

The Winter Soldier stiffly stuck out a hand, a wicked smile twisting on his face. Scott ignored the freakish intensity of his steely eyes and shook his hand cheerfully, glad that it wasn't the metal one because that would probably break his fingers. And he needed those. Although, the flesh hand was doing a pretty good job of crushing his knuckles, he realised with a yelp, and before he knew it he'd been tugged towards Bucky with his poor hand held hostage between them.

"If you ever touch Steve again, you won't make it back to America," he growled into Scott's ear, sending a shiver down the engineer's spine. "He's _mine_ , and if you forget that, your daughter will lose a father."

Scott stumbled backwards, rubbing at his sore hand as Bucky released him roughly. He stuttered a little, looking blankly from Steve to Bucky. The latter looked pleased, while Captain America at least had the dignity to try to hide his smile behind a frown. Sam was fully cackling, especially when Scott started to stutter out a reply. "I'm in a committed relationship," he managed.

Bucky didn't reply, just grabbed Steve by the collar and kissed him, hard and filthy, right on the lips.

Scott never expected to be standing in a German parking lot while Captain America's eyes rolled back into his head at the hot press of Bucky Barnes' mouth, but then again, his life was already pretty weird.

3

The party was in full swing, and Natasha sipped her glass of champagne as she surveyed the room. She liked - _needed_ \- to know where everyone was at all times. It was something that was drilled into her at a young age, always being aware of her surroundings, and naturally, as she let people in, her awareness expanded to those she cared about as well. She began a mental checklist.

Barton was playing darts with Bishop and Chavez on the leftmost wall, and it looked like Bishop was narrowly beating a tipsy Hawkeye Senior (Natasha almost involuntarily smiled at that). Maximoff was dazzling Princess Shuri with her scarlet ribbons of magic, while Vision stood idly by Wanda's side and King T'Challa laughed at a joke his fiance told him. Banner was eyeing Thor and Valkyrie warily as they competitively knocked back shots of Asgardian liquor (mental note to check on Bruce later in the evening). Stark was annoying Potts with Rhodes reluctantly in tow as she tried to entertain the important guests in attendance, though Madam Secretary did not seem to mind. Parker and Lang appeared to be racing beetles on the balcony, with Wilson squatting at the makeshift finish line as some sort of judge.

Natasha pursed her lips. That only left-

Rogers was in the last place she'd expect him to be; right in the middle of the designated dancefloor, looking about as lost as Natasha would expect.

She sidled up to him, blood-red lips tugging into a small smirk. "It's not like you to dance alone. Where's your shadow?"

Rogers jumped slightly, and if he'd been holding a drink it would have spilt all over his expensive tailored suit. She noted that he looked tight and uncomfortable in the black velvet, so it was more than likely Stark's doing. That was a nice thing for him to do. It was nice of Rogers to show at all, really, though now that the Accords mess was all cleaned up and more or less forgiven, Natasha supposed it was the very least he could do after the grief he'd put Tony through. And the grief Tony had put _him_ through - she wasn't going to take sides in a playground argument. Even if said playground was a battlefield and the argument escalated to gunshots.

Rogers looked relieved to see it was Natasha that had snuck up on him. He cocked his head slightly, every inch the helpless puppy Wilson frequently described him as. "You mean Bucky? He went to the bathroom."

"Of course I mean Bucky," she dismissed with a roll of her eyes. A pink blush dusted his cheeks, and she gave him another smile for his trouble. "How's he doing?"

Rogers all but beamed. "Fantastic. He remembers almost everything now that Shuri cleared his triggers. I - he's - yeah."

Natasha downed the last few dregs of her champagne, discarding the glass on a nearby table. She held her hand out for him to take, sure to express in the slant of her eyebrow that he had no choice but to oblige. Rogers sighed but let her pull him into a slow dance. "He's good for you, Steve. I've never seen you so happy."

"He is," smiled Rogers. He was stepping out of time, and dangerously close to Natasha's toes, but she daintily avoided his shiny black shoes.

"If I'd known you swing that way, maybe the dates I set up would have been more successful."

That earned a full laugh, and Natasha didn't think she'd ever heard him let out more than a polite chuckle at a party. He tended to be guarded and tense, almost as much as herself, and it was nice to see that one of them was letting a little loose. "Nah," Rogers said eventually. "They still would've flopped. Buck's the only one for me, and I've always known it."

"You never said-"

"It wasn't anyone's business," he interrupted, and the corner of Natasha's lips quirked up. It was nice to know he wasn't afraid of her (Bruce wouldn't even think about interrupting her. Or anyone, really. He was probably a bad example). Though he probably should be, considering the absurd number of guns hidden in the folds of her dress.

"Touché," she nodded, guiding him as he spun her around. She noticed as she twirled that Barnes was on his way over, and noticed again when she saw Rogers' big dumb grin.

" _Very brave of you to dance with what's mine, Romanov. Not smart, but brave_ ," Barnes drawled in Russian. He swept up to Rogers and tugged him to his side, out of Natasha's grip. Steve watched him with wide eyes, pupils noticeably dilating in response to the foreign tongue.

" _Please. We were trained by the same master, James. Don't think I couldn't take you with my eyes closed_ ," she responded.

Barnes chuckled lightly. " _I like you, Natalia. And I don't doubt that. But put your hands on him again and you'll wish you were back in the Red Room_."

"What're you guys talking about?" Steve asked, smiling between them like an idiot. Natasha supposed he was justified in that - after all, getting one's dead boyfriend back was sure to put a permanent smile on one's face. She flicked her eyes to Barnes, steeling herself with a rare sincerity.

" _You've got nothing to worry about. I love him, but certainly not as more than a friend. Just be good to him, James_."

Barnes appeared to soften ever so slightly, his brow dropping and his metal gears whirring in a manner that most would miss. " _Of course I will. He's my everything. He's_ -" he stammered slightly, and Natasha raised one sculpted eyebrow. " _He's always been my whole world, but I also know he could do so much better_."

Natasha let the smile flow freely across her face, a warmth spreading within her. " _I have good reason to believe he feels the exact same way. There's no need to be so afraid of being happy_."

Barnes frowned. " _Sorry. I don't mean to burden you. You just seem to be the only one around here who... understands_."

" _I do. And if you ever need to talk_..."

He nodded. "Thank you." Then he turned to Rogers, expression all mushy and lovesick. Natasha looked away. "And thank _you_. For everything. I love you, more than you'll ever know."

She took her leave as Rogers spurted some equally sickly-sweet confession, resolved to go congratulate Bishop on her win.

4

"Rhodey, I'm telling you, it makes absolutely no sense for Dan to be Gossip Girl! There's more plot holes than a wheel of Swiss cheese," exasperated Tony, chewing on a slice of pizza absently as he studied his best friend's legs. More ankle support, that was what he needed. And a lightweight metal for the beams. An aluminium alloy? Maybe he could repurpose some of his boots-

"And I'm telling you that I don't care," Rhodey sighed. He stole Tony's pizza right from his hand, which was extremely rude considering Tony was building him a brand new pair of robot leg braces, but he just grumbled and twisted his screwdriver as not to lose his train of thought.

"That's what Pepper said too. You're both such-"

"If you call me a Serena one more time I will make you sleep on the couch," scolded Pepper, marching through the room with a big blond icicle in tow. Steve, the idiot, was wearing sweatpants and nothing else, which was completely against the health and safety laws Happy had enforced in the lab. That man had let his promotion to Head of Security inflate his sense of self-importance, honestly.

"For your information, I was going to say Jenny Humphrey, which is much worse," snarked Tony, but he got up from where he was crouched (no his knees did _not_ creak in complaint) and pressed a kiss to Pepper's cheek, careful not to douse her in grease. There was a moment of silence, then Tony sighed. "Well, Magic Mike, are you going to tell me why you've got your boobs out in my basement, or am I supposed to guess?"

Steve blushed all across his face and bare chest, crossing his arms in a feeble attempt to cover up. "I didn't have time to grab a shirt. It's about Bucky, his arm's malfunctioning."

Tony grinned. "So you're asking me for help?"

"Just go, for God's sake," scolded Pepper, prodding him in the side. She leaned in to whisper in his ear conspiratorially. "You won't regret it. He's stuck to the fridge."

And on that note, Tony practically (and a little bit literally) flew up to Steve's floor.

Pepper was right, he was not disappointed by the sight of the glowering super-assassin, also shirtless and left arm glued to the refrigerator. Tony doubled over, gripping the countertop for support as he cackled. It was almost too good to be true. He whipped out his phone to take a picture, but before he knew it the device had been smacked out of his hand.

"Just help him, Tony," growled Steve, quite unnecessarily crushing the phone beneath his heel. It leaked a dark liquid onto the floorboards, an evidence-destroying fail-safe Tony had been experimenting with, so he watched with scientific eyes as the mechanics of the device bubbled and melted. It seemed to work well, although the flooring was definitely stained. Tony neglected to tell Steve that, because the idiot had just crushed his phone. Talk about _rude_.

"Why should I? You just broke my stuff," Tony pointed out, crossing his arms and looking at Bucky down the bridge of his nose in a spectacular power move he rarely received the pleasure of executing. Not because he was short. Shut up. "I wanna hear you say please."

" _Stark_ -" began Bucky, his tone alone embodying a threat.

"Buck," Steve said softly. "I know you're in pain. Just say it, I can't bear to see you like this anymore."

Tony raised an eyebrow. The half-naked cyborg that stood before him did not appear to be in discomfort to Tony, but then again the man was extraordinarily hard to read. Maybe he and the Star-Spangled Man had some sort of psychic connection.

"Fine," huffed Bucky. Then, very quietly, "please."

Tony clasped his hands together and grinned. "Great! Let's get to it. Iceman, I need you to go get my toolkit. Ask Pepper, she'll know what to do."

Steve nodded obediently. "I'll be right back, Bucky."

"There's a good boy," Tony said with a slap of Steve's ass as he left. He was too occupied brainstorming to notice the clenching of Bucky's teeth as he watched.

Taking a step forward to analyse the damage, he noticed the tight fist the metal hand was curled into. Maybe Steve did have a point about the pain. Tony had never really gotten a good look at the arm before, no matter how much he whined and begged, so he really had no clue as to why the magnetic pull was causing the man anything other than mild annoyance. He didn't get much time to ponder it now, either, because he was experiencing pain of his own.

Bucky's flesh fingers were pressing harshly into Tony's bicep, which was almost nothing compared to the icy glare he was receiving. If looks could kill, he'd be a dead man. Tony spread open his palm.

"Don't you ever touch him like that again," the sergeant whisper-yelled, as if Steve's super-soldier hearing was that good. "I know you're rich, and can have anyone you want, but _not him_. I will not hesitate to-"

Tony never got the chance to find out what Bucky would not hesitate to do (though he didn't really care to either), because plates of armour were whizzing through the air, slamming into Tony's hand and unfurling upwards until his arm was encased in his suit and free from Bucky's grip.

"I appreciate the sentiment, Timbuktu, but I'm a married man with a baby on the way. Now do you want my help or not?"

Bucky's fists relaxed. There was a long pause as his face contorted, revealing an expression filled with pain and regret. "I'm sorry," he said eventually, voice low and anxious. "I know you're just trying to help, even after all I've done to you and your family-"

Tony tried not to flinch.

"And I really am trying to keep my anger under control. It's just, with him... I can never... It doesn't matter. I'm sorry," he huffed, letting his long hair splay over his face.

Tony had never in a million years expected an apology from Bucky, but he supposed it was good to know that all the money he poured into therapy for any Avenger that needed it was doing some good. Only now he was kind of feeling like an asshole for being so blasé about his situation. "Don't worry about it. I understand," he replied, hesitantly placing a comforting hand on the other's sagging shoulder. "I've sued people for doing less to Pepper."

Bucky's head shot up then. "Wait a second," he said, voice softening. "Did you say a baby?"

It was so quiet Tony almost missed it, but it rendered him silent for a few beats. He'd never seen the other man so gentle, so unguarded. There was a deep sadness behind his eyes as they flitted down to the floor, and Tony's heart sunk a little. Damn it, feelings.

"A baby," Tony confirmed. He paused for a moment, assessing his options. "Guess who's up for the role of godparents? If you're willing, that is."

Bucky's head snapped up comically fast. "Really?" His voice was dripping with such hope and disbelief, and Tony knew instantly he'd made the right choice. "But... I literally just threatened you."

Tony shrugged. "Most people have at one point or another. It's no big deal."

He made an attempt to pry the arm from the fridge with his metal fingers, but with no avail. Sighing, he cursed the Nazis and their ridiculously flawed designs.

"Are you sure? I'm... I'm a bit of a liability."

"If you showed even a fraction of the protectiveness you have for Steve towards my kid, there is no one else I'd rather looking after them."

"As long as I'm alive, no one will lay a finger on that kid, Stark. I promise you."

Tony grinned. Rhodey was going to kill him.

5

Bucky hated charity events. He hated parties. He hated dressing up in a suit and combing his hair. He hated parading around like he belonged there, with the rich and privileged. He hated practically begging them to donate to the cause. He hated the stupid questions he was asked about his past.

What he didn't hate was how good Steve looked.

"Rogers, if you keep lookin' at me like that, we'll never even make it out the door," said Bucky, voice low and husky in the way he knew Steve loved.

"I know what you're doing. We're going to the party, Bucky, and no amount of flirting is going to get you out of it," responded Steve, though he was wearing a grin as he fumbled with Bucky's tie. He ran his hands up and down Bucky's arms when he was done, gaze softening. "Do it for Thor. I know you like the guy, and you know how important it is for his people to have a home."

Those blue eyes bore into him like stakes, and Bucky had known for a long time that he could never say no to Steve. He sighed. "Yeah, yeah. Let's just get it over with, then."

Steve beamed and pecked him on the lips, and it was almost worth it.

But no, it turned out to be just as draining and tiresome as Bucky recalled. He'd left Steve to go get drinks over an hour ago, and so many people had stopped him to talk on his way back over that he was just about ready to flee. Both drinks were long gone and he was still no closer to the other man. Thor better be goddamn grateful.

"-not sure about New Asgard, to be frank," said boring aristocrat number one, and she had an annoying habit of toying with the front of her dress. "Why can't they find their own planet?"

Bucky snapped back to attention. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I completely agree. It's not our fault they blew up their own world," boring aristocrat number two contributed.

Bucky calmly placed down the two empty glasses he held to ensure he wouldn't crush them due to the ignorance of these ridiculous people. "Yes, of course, refugees are the _worst_. Speaking of which, you're a Schmidt, aren't you, Jonas? That's an awfully German surname, isn't it? And Mila, did you know that Captain America's mother was an Irish immigrant? I'm sure he'd love to hear your opinions."

The pair stared at him in shock, clearly not used to being put down. And normally, Bucky would have tried his best to gently convince them to donate to the fund, but these people just snapped something in him.

"Maybe you should think about what you're really saying before you start dictating the futures of others," Bucky said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go talk to someone that isn't an ignorant asshole."

Then he promptly fled the scene, shouldering his way through the crowd until he got to Steve. These people were driving him insane and he just wanted to go home already before he killed someone. Most seemed to sense the annoyance in his stride, because they stepped aside rather than dragging him into their boring conversations.

When he finally got to Steve, his cold glare hardened. He was talking to a tall, built man with short black hair and a fitted red suit that Bucky thought looked stupid. The man had Steve practically backed against a table, leaning in close and batting his eyelashes as he told some (probably horribly boring) story. Steve was smiling tightly, clearly uncomfortable but too kind-natured to say anything.

It grated right on Bucky's nerves, how people always threw themselves at Steve. It reminded him of the old days, in the war, when Steve first got the serum. Girls were constantly all over Steve, and Bucky could barely do more than glare at them, because of how unkindly society would have treated guys like them. And it was more than just being protective of what was his, it was the fact that all those women were interested solely in his appearance. Bucky had loved Steve _far_ longer than he'd been a supersoldier, and those who only appreciated him post-serum didn't deserve the time of day. Now, in this new century, he could kiss Steve all he liked, and growl at anyone who looked his way, and that was exactly what he intended to do.

Bucky marched up to the pair and slid an arm tight around Steve's waist, pressing a kiss to his neck to make it clear that Steve was his. He raised a challenging eyebrow at the man in red that halted his sentence in its tracks when Bucky's teeth grazed the column of Steve's throat.

"Hey, doll," said Bucky, grinning as Steve's arm wound around his shoulders. "Who's this?"

"This is David. He was telling me about a World War II movie he was in," Steve smiled, fingers absently toying with Bucky's hair.

"I was just talking about how I got a real feel for the time. Very homophobic, very racist, very sexist," David droned, like he had any idea what he was talking about. Steve and Bucky had lived through that, and this prick was speaking as if they didn't know. Bucky clenched his jaw painfully while Steve tried to massage the tension out of the back of his neck. "Speaking of which, Steve, don't you find it a little condescending to be called 'doll'? It's quite derogatory, not to mention feminine."

"No, I have no issue with it. It's not condescending or derogatory, and I'm comfortable enough with my masculinity to handle the word 'doll'," Steve said, and Bucky's love for him grew.

David shrugged. "I just think there are much nicer, less subjective pet names."

"Fascinating," drawled Bucky, narrowing his eyes at the man. "Say, David, did you know that I'm the most feared assassin in the world right now? Apparently, I've killed more people than any single man in history."

David paled.

"Honestly, at this point, the list is so long that another name would be like a drop in the ocean." Bucky narrowed his eyes and leaned in slightly. "I could make it seem as though someone never existed. I could make your own mother forget you. So if you even think about criticising my relationship or stepping within a mile of my boyfriend ever again, I'll make you wish you were never born."

David opened his mouth, but all that came out was a pathetic squeak. He turned on his heel and all but ran away, across to the other side of the room.

"That was damn harsh, Buck. He looked like he was about to pass out," Steve said, but he was smiling, and his eyelids were hooded, and he twisted around until his arms hung loosely over Bucky's shoulders and their faces were mere inches apart.

"Well, I can't have him thinkin' he's allowed to flirt with you, can I? Maybe he'll spread the word, and people will finally learn to stay away from what's mine."

"Mm, I like it when you get all possessive," Steve hummed against Bucky's lips. "You wanna get outta here? I think I saw an empty room down the hall."

"Do you even have to ask?" Bucky said with a roll of his eyes. "Lead the way, pretty boy."

+1

Steve was exhausted. The team had just finished a week-long mission in the middle of nowhere, and were barely given a full night's sleep before they were dragged out into the media spotlight. The last thing Steve wanted at the moment was to be interviewed, but it was his turn to give the news channels the rundown, and he wasn't going to let any of the other Avengers down. At least he had Bucky by his side.

"Wake up, old man," the brunet said, flicking Steve on the cheek.

"You're older than me, jerk," retorted Steve. "And you cannot seriously tell me you're not tired. Or excited for this interview, for that matter."

"I'm sorry to be wasting your time, Captain Rogers," a woman said sourly, sitting in the seat across from them. Steve supposed that was the journalist they were scheduled to talk to, and he flushed a deep red.

"So sorry, ma'am. I didn't mean any disrespect."

Bucky laughed heartily. "Kiss-ass," he faux-coughed.

That teased a giggle from the interviewer, and Steve didn't miss the way her eyes roamed up and down Bucky's figure. The blond stiffened slightly in his chair, but pursed his lips.

"It's nice to meet you, Sergeant Barnes. I must say, you're even more striking than your photos," she said, sitting so her body was primarily facing Bucky. She reached out one dainty hand, which Bucky shook instinctively. "Anna McClain."

"Thanks," Bucky replied with an effortlessly charming grin. "Call me Bucky."

"Alright, _Bucky_ ," Anna smiled, his name sounding filthy on her lips, and _oh god_ , was she batting her eyelashes? Steve crossed his arms tight across his chest and cleared his throat loudly, causing the woman to shoot him a frown. "Let's get this interview started then, shall we?"

The questions started out as the general mission-centred enquiries that most interviews consisted of, which each had to be answered carefully to make sure the Avengers looked good. It was exhausting, having to constantly persuade the public of the team's worth, but it was a necessary part of each job. Steve supposed it was better than people blindly accepting everything that was thrown their way.

As the time dragged on, however, Steve noticed Anna leaning towards Bucky, directing most of her questions to him and asking more about his personal life than his professional one. It made him clench his jaw painfully, hand migrating to rest on Bucky's thigh.

He hadn't felt this pounding of jealousy in his veins since before the serum, when Bucky was the most eligible bachelor in the area and was forced to go on a constant stream of dates to keep up appearances. Steve had sat in their apartment, stewing in his fury, until Bucky came home and he could throw him into bed. But after Azzano, and throughout the war, he'd never really needed to growl at people to step back, because most were deterred by Bucky swatting away anyone that so much as looked in Steve's direction.

Now, his blood was boiling as he watched Anna flirt with Bucky like she had a right to. It was ridiculous, Steve though, the _audacity_ of her. Sure, he hadn't publicly announced their relationship, but she _had_ to know. He thought he made it quite obvious; after all, Bucky had always said that he wore his emotions like a badge.

But apparently it wasn't obvious enough, because the next thing she said caused Steve to snap.

"So, Bucky, how do you feel about the absurd rumour that you and the Captain are in a romantic relationship?"

Bucky looked about as shocked as Steve felt. "Excuse me?"

"Well, there's a ridiculous conspiracy that has been circulating suggesting that you and Mr Rogers' are, in fact, a couple. _I_ know it's not true, but my editor would like it on record that America's heroes are good, virtuous men, not... I'm sure you understand."

Steve sat up straight in his seat, hardening his expression and narrowing his eyes. "I'm not sure I do, Ms McClain. Bucky and I have been together since we were fifteen years old, back when it was illegal for me to even think about him that way. I've loved him since the moment I met him, and I didn't think I owed anyone an explanation regarding just how much. But your ignorance and blatant flirting with _my_ boyfriend did not go unnoticed, so I will spell it out for you. He is, and always will be, the most important person in my life. And it's people like you that stop people like us from openly expressing our love."

"I- I don't- it's _true_?" Anna sputtered, face painted vibrantly with confusion and shock.

Steve crossed his arms and gave her one final challenging look. "Yep. Maybe the world will finally clue onto that when we get married."

"You're getting _married_?" Anna asked in disbelief, expression somehow growing wilder.

"We're getting married?" Bucky whispered in a similar tone, jaw dropping open. Then he beamed, bright and happy, hands finding Steve's. "We're getting married."

"Let's get out of here," suggested Steve, already pulling Bucky out of the studio by the hand. "I'm sure we can think of something better to do than this."

"Oh, definitely," purred Bucky. He leaned in close and pressed a kiss below Steve's ear, hand suggestively squeezing his hip as they walked out of the building. "I have a few ideas." 


End file.
